


Backflipping Off a Speeding Motorcycle

by Wynn



Series: Not All Birds [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Attempts at emotional comfort, Family Angst, Feels, Multi, Random Star Wars References, Shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynn/pseuds/Wynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky thought he could do it. Meet Darcy's family. Clint would be there. Darcy too. Everything would be fine. But panic sets in the day of their departure, and it's up to Clint to attempt to successfully provide mature emotional comfort.</p>
<p>He's doomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backflipping Off a Speeding Motorcycle

**Author's Note:**

> A loose sequel of sorts to "Not All Birds." That one is decidedly wackier in tone. This one has more feels. 
> 
> Inspired by a prompt at the Wintershock Firsts challenge at MCU Wintershock on Tumblr: first time meeting the parents/family.

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

Bucky shook his head. “I can’t. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve met someone’s family? _Without_ killing them?”

This made Clint pause. “I—”

“Almost seventy-five years. That’s three Darcy’s, Clint.” Bucky stopped, his eyes going wide. “Three Darcy’s. Jesus. I’m—” He shook his head a second time as he resumed his pacing. “I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t.”

Clint watched him pace. He briefly considered calling Darcy, but he didn’t want her to think that Bucky didn’t _want_ to meet her family. Because Clint knew that he did, that he was just nervous. Hell, Clint was nervous, and he didn’t have seventy years of files online documenting his tragic, brainwashed past. He just had the unfortunately clear memories in his brain.

Bucky shook his head, ran his right hand back through his hair, and Clint worried his bottom lip. If not Darcy, maybe Steve or Natasha. Or Sam. Sam was cool. Sam knew words. Sam could say the right thing and make Bucky realize he was letting his fear lead to his panic, or his anger to his hate, or his fear to his hate, or whatever the hell Yoda said. Sam could do that. Clint couldn’t. Clint could hit a bulls-eye with an arrow while backflipping off a speeding motorcycle, but he couldn’t give another person successful emotional comfort because he had never, in his life, been successful with his emotions. Or at least not concerning this. Normal stuff. Relationship stuff. If Bucky were suffering from a gunshot wound or breathtaking nightmares from his brainwashing, then Clint could help. He’d been there. Both times. But he couldn’t remember the last time that he’d met somebody’s parents either, not even his own, so he was as in the dark as Bucky.

And thus inspiration dawned.

“Okay,” he said, stepping in front of Bucky. “Say that you can’t.”

Bucky stared at him, as thrown by the forced cessation of his pacing as by the statement from Clint. “What?”

“You can’t do this. Neither can I. So what?”

Bucky frowned at Clint. “I don’t—”

“I do. No one has ever brought me home to meet their parents. Ever.”

The frown remained, but it slid from confused to consoling. “That’s their loss.”

The little mangled lump that Clint called his heart warmed a bit at the affirmation. “Maybe. Still doesn’t give me a clue about how this thing is supposed to go.”

“I used to know,” Bucky said, his gaze going distant. “I… Parents liked me.”

Clint shrugged. “Maybe Darcy’s will too.”

This brought Bucky back from the past. “How? I’m old enough to be her _grandfather_.”

“But you look young enough to be dating Darcy. I, on the other hand, look old enough to be her father. Hell, I _am_ old enough to be her father.”

Bucky gave him a look. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m almost, and you don’t think that’s going to be weird when I’m sitting across the table from Abe Lewis? ‘Oh, yes, hello. My name is Clint, the walking disaster. I like arrows and pizza, and I’m almost fifteen years older than your precious baby daughter.’”

Bucky’s face softened, and it seemed, for a moment, that he’d been pulled out of his self-doubt. But then he frowned again as he said, “It won’t be weirder than murder.”

“Uh, yeah, it will be. To them it will be. They’re _normal_ , Bucky. Seventy years of brainwashed assassination doesn’t really fit within their worldview.”

Bucky cocked a brow at that. “Oh really? Their daughter’s been in three alien invasions, she now works for Tony Stark, and she dates Avengers. Two of them, at the same time. I think it might fit within their worldview.”

Clint closed his mouth, no response coming to mind. Bucky was right. Abe and Darlene Lewis had been kicked out of normal when their kid became the second person on the planet to meet an honest to god alien. Perhaps the age gap mattered less than the fact that he killed people in the past. Clint felt panic settle in hot in his gut. Maybe he could call Tony. Hadn’t he met Pepper’s parents? He should have some tips on how to ease past the fact you’re utterly undeserving of the person whose parents you’re meeting. Clint started to reach for his phone in his back pocket, but then Bucky’s brows slanted from stubborn down to anxious, and he found himself reaching for Bucky’s hand instead.

“Okay,” he said again, his voice softer. “Say it does fit their worldview. But Darcy’s told them about us, about you and I and her. They know who we are, so do you really think she’d’ve asked you to come if she thought they hated you? If they disapproved of you because of what happened in your past?” 

Bucky stared at him, wavering in his disbelief. If this failed, he’d have to call _somebody_ to help, maybe even Darcy. But then Bucky’s shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes and the tension within him finally snapped.

“No, she wouldn’t.”

“Okay then.” Clint lifted his other hand and cupped the side of Bucky’s face. Bucky leaned into the touch, and Clint felt his heart clench. “You can do this,” he said, his voice still soft. “ _I_ can do this. And you know why? You know how we can do this? Because she deserves it. Darcy loves us, I don’t know why, but she does, so we’re going to make damn sure this goes well. Or as well as we can make it being who we are.”

Bucky nodded. Clint leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple before kissing him proper, a soft one, quick and chaste, for comfort. As he did, he felt slim arms wrap around him from behind, Darcy for the first time ever sneaking up on them. She reached past him to grab Bucky’s free hand. Bucky stiffened a moment before he realized it was Darcy, and that, more than anything, revealed his level of distress, Bucky the equal to Natasha in situational awareness. Lowering his hand from Bucky’s face, Clint turned and gathered Darcy up, shifting her closer until she stood beside them, one arm around each.

“You’re going to be fine,” she said once in place. “Both of you. Trust me. My parents might be normal, but they’re _my_ kind of normal. Literally. They made me, so I guess I am their kind of normal. And if what they made loves you, they will too.” 

Bucky shifted closer, propped his chin on the top of her head. “Parents are different.”

“Yes. Meaning they won’t look at you like the two hottest sets of abs this side of the Mississippi. Instead, they’ll see two sad woobies in desperate need of love and care.”

Clint smirked at Bucky. “Woobies? Like the big dude from _Star Wars_?”

Darcy poked him in the side. “No. Not like that, and you know it. Like people who haven’t had a family in a very long time.”

The smirk faded from Clint’s face. “Darce, I don’t—”

“My mom’s making you pie.”

Bucky froze. 

The protest died on Clint’s lips. “Pie?” 

Darcy laughed. “Yes. Pie. In fact, multiple pies. She’s been bugging me all week about what you two like. Do you eat apple? Do you watch _Jeopardy_? Should they board Godiva?”

Bucky pressed a kiss to Darcy’s head. “Godiva?”

“Our cat. Which I told her not to,” she added quickly as Clint was about to protest. “She’s just slipping into hardcore mom mode. Dad is too. Well, for dad mode, not mom mode.” 

Clint rubbed his hand along Darcy’s back. “Does dad mode also involve food?”

“Maybe. He might barbeque. I don’t know. I do know he’s unearthed the ancient dartboard from some dusty corner of the basement.” She eased her head out from under Bucky’s to peer up at him. “Go easy on him when he inevitably asks you two to play.”

Clint raised his brows. “Me go easy on him? Bucky’s got the superpowers.”

Darcy raised hers right back. “And you’ve got the psychologically unhealthy competitive streak when it comes to games. Or have you forgotten Mario Kart?”

Clint winced. He hadn’t. He couldn’t, Stark playing on repeat the piercing shriek he emitted when Bruce hulked out and threw him out the window for shelling him seconds before he was to win the championship race. Thankfully, Stark caught him too, if only to get the up close and personal to record his terror.

“Point taken.”

“Good.” Darcy eased back then and took in first Clint and then Bucky. “So… we ready to go?”

Though she tried to hide her nerves, Clint heard them in her voice. And he knew Bucky did too because he didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes.”

The smile that appeared on her face made Clint wonder what good thing he ever did in his life to bring her into his life. He thought the same thing a second later as her smile brought one forth on Bucky’s face.

“Great.” Darcy eased back a bit more. Her smile turned sly as she looked from one to the other. “Now that that’s all settled, first one to the car picks the playlist!”

She spun around and, laughing, raced for the door to their apartment. Bucky tore after her, though Clint knew he’d let her win. Clint, on the other hand, was no such gentleman, and instead tore off for the window, yanking it open to slide down the fire escape to the ground and thus to victory.


End file.
